God Gave Me Thee To Hold
by TenTenD
Summary: Wherein a queen is forged in the great fires of trial, a lover shaped with care and a woman gently coaxed into bravery. Faced with many a peril in her pursuit of love, Hadassa must learn to pick her allies and choose her enemies wisely, for the ground she walks upon is treacherous, the King's favour ever changing. If she but could reach the man behind the crown. Film inspired.
1. Chapter 1

The higher the climb the better to fall, Hadassa considered eyeing the beautiful Misgath with her fragrant curls and painted smile. The woman's progress about the chamber had been noted by eyes other than her own as well. Eunuchs leaned in for whispered conversations and words that did not carry formed upon their lips. Hadassa reached for a handful of soaked rose petals absentmindedly. She wondered if her uncle had managed to find enough of her whereabouts to set his mind at ease and if her boon companion Jesse had managed to leave in time with the caravan. Wet petals settled against her skin and the soft, sweet-smelling mist rose from them.

A foreign touch brought her from her thoughts and she found herself looking into the lambent gaze of Hannah. "Come, let me aid you," her friend said, gently pushing so that she may turn her. Hadassa obeyed the pressure and presented Hannah her back. "Lo, that we should be paraded about like beasts at the market," she lamented their predicament.

"If we are beasts, then surely we are of the finest, most pampered sort." She washed her front with care. "And least we should desire that to change, 'tis best to keep our wits about us." But no one paid them much mind. They would have one night with the King, each and every one of them, to be sure, but greater heads would do the choosing and thus those of them who came with no family to back them and little connections to speak of could but hope for a fond memory. "We will soon be home and all of this shall seem a dream; mark you my words, dearest Hannah."

Misgath had just banished a couple of girls from one of the long benches and lied herself prone upon the wood. Hadassa shook her head at the act and turned her gaze from the great beauty. Eunuchs hurried to massage her well-oiled flesh. "What a disgraceful sight," Hannah spoke the words she herself could not voice. "I pray the good Lord we never sink so low as that one."

"Stay your tongue," Hadassa warned softly. "She is as nothing to us." And what did it matter, the thoughts came unbidden once more, that she was to be queen of the mighty Xerxes. Her insides squeezed with the knowledge even as she chided herself for a fool. And her heart recalled the strong, stern face and shuddered from some unknown ailment. Misgath or some other creature very like her would sit at his side and whisper counsel in his ear, and Hadassa had no business feeling herself injured.

Her washing at an end, she rose, still damp and yet more fragrant than before, from among her sisters. She was handed a long sheet of uncommonly soft cloth to put about her naked form, and servants tugged her this way and that, seating her upon a stool as they combed her hair and pinned it out of the way. Hands pulled at the covering preserving her modesty and bedecked her after in the whites and blues of purity and she rose from the stool to be handed thin-soled bejewelled slippers.

Hadassa beheld her form reflected back at her and did not recognise the woman she saw. Surely that was Esther of Susa who stared back at her with kohl-rimmed eyes and a beguilingly rosy mouth. Demurely, she looked down at her feet. The woman was too strange, too much a creature of attention and too little one of modesty. They would look at her as she passed and she would endure their looks and know that in their minds they too would know the truth of the matter; Esther of Susa or plain Hadassa, she belonged not within such halls as housed her.

Upset at her own grief over the matter, she walked at a fast pace away from the bathing women and made her way without, into the inner garden, sanctuary to all women of the harem. Omarosa, she too of Susa, sat upon soft pillows in the tall grass, cup of wine in hand. She waved Hadassa over; another one of those more fortunate contestants; her father was a rich merchant. She smiled at Hadassa and patted one of the pillows at her side. "You tarry and you dither. And yet I see you are no longer beholden to the shadows, so come and sit with me and share my wine." Omarosa stared into her face and perchance saw something was amiss for she questioned her at once. "Are you unwell then? Your skin is flushed."

"But the heat," she assured the other. She took a cup, but not of wine, and drank gratefully from it, for the coolness of the draught soothed and she found her grief lessened. Omarosa gently patted her arm.

"Come, read to me. I grow weary of sitting in silence." The young woman clapped her hands and a servant brought forth an armful of scrolls for her to pick from and soon enough many a girl had gathered about her and listened to her read. And the gentle breeze played in their hair, mischievously testing the hold of combs and human artifice. And on wore the day until the night was come and Hadassa found herself back in her chambers, shared with Hannah and Sarah and she slept the uneasy sleep a heavy heart engendered.

She woke in the night for there was a whisper in her ear and up she sat, eyes scrutinising the darkness of the chamber. But there was not a wakened soul beside her and she admonished herself, lying back down lest she disturb the others. A second time slumber did not come and when the sun's rays finally broke through the heavy veil of night, she found herself tired and cross, at pains to put a smile upon her face.

Walking the gardens in hopes of finding relief, Hadassa stopped before a rosebush, eyeing the flowers growing there. Upturned was their crown of petals and spread wide. She leaned in and took in the scent. How simple the life of such a flower must be; to bloom so prettily and delight all those about it. She wished she were a flower, and then she would rain her petals upon the hands of some brave soul who dared pluck her from her perch. In her mind's eye, 'twas the King's hand that broke her tether to her brethren and held her aloft, gazing down upon her in admiration, for he saw that the flower was well-made and that was pleasing in his eyes. She would rest upon his desk, Hadassa decided, and brighten his day when he chanced to observe her. The foolish thought brought a smile to her lips. How Mordecai should laugh to hear her spin such thoughts; she had but seen him once and though he brought her great unease, she must not cling to him so. The fine counsel lasted her for all of the morning but not a moment past, for the women gathered could speak of little else but the King and thus her thoughts turned to him once more.

How silly; how utterly foolish, and yet how alluring. She did not expect for Hegai to summon her to him when finally she regained her bearing. She worried, briefly, that her uncle's ruse had been discovered and she was undone. Her heart, wild within her chest, would not cease its frenzied beating. But Hegai merely invited her to sit.

"That scroll you see there, red me from it," he spoke, not lifting his eyes from the scroll he had before him.

Hesitant, Hadassa reached for the object left her. She unrolled it gently and gasped. "'Tis the tale of Gilgamesh the Babylonian," she declared excitedly, tracing the lettering with one trembling finger. Clearing her throat, Hadassa began reading as she had been commanded; it would not do to run the man's patience to ground. Her voice gained confidence the more she read and the words were beautiful to her and she could not help but give praise to God for the joy he had brought her and for allowing her this chance.

"Enough," Hegai stopped her after a time. "You read well, Esther of Susa." She smiled at the compliment and inclined her head. "Come to the gardens after dark and await me; you shall read once again." A maiden lurking in a darkened garden should have brought a wave of indignation to her; yet it was Hegai who asked it of her. He was not a man to be feared as other men were. Knowing herself to be in his power nonetheless, Hadassa nodded and waited for him to dismiss her.

Once released from his presence, she found herself aimless. Only the promise of the night to come kept her discontentment and the idle hope that she might ingratiate herself to the man after all and by winning his favour, adding to her meagre chance.

She had to make peace once and for all with the longing blooming in her breast for a lie beget but other lies and she would not be a deceiver in the face of her feelings. Was it not God that had fashioned her with such a heart in her chest, and was He not the one who taught them all how to love. How could she in good conscience turn from His lesson when it called her to love? With that in mind she bore herself with slightly more joy. Truth had set her free.

Baths and massages occupied her day along with measuring and more measuring and the all important choosing of the best cloths. It was enough to last her a lifetime, she thought, even as she deliberated with Hannah over the best patterns to choose. Sarah joined them at lengths and the three of them spent the rest of their day together.

Time brought with it the long awaited dusk. Hadassa disrobed and prepared to take to her bed, fully committed to not allowing her friends to learn of the night's adventure. Just in case it was some manner of mischief. She would not have them fall to any of that if she could help it.

She made her way without the chamber with great care, eyes searching the hall for any sign of life. But she needn't have worried for Hegai seemed to have taken care of all matters and she encountered not a one hindrance to her journey. And the gardens awaited her, bathed in soft light from the torches affixed to stone pillars.

The Chief Eunuch himself sat upon the edge of the great fountain, apparently at ease in the coolness of the night. Drawing her shawl tighter about her, she came to stand before him. He, still much in the manner of before, gave her a nod. "I thought you might not come after all."

"Lo, you have called for my presence and here I am." It would be of no good to reveal her innermost fears to him and thus she held them locked away in her heart, and Hegai stood and spoke, towering over her like she imagined Goliath had over David. But he was no fierce Goliath and she no brave David.

"You will follow me." And follow she did, stepping in his wake as ever did a child after their parent trusting that whatever danger lied ahead would not be met without a shield. And the Chief Eunuch led her for a time through maze-like corridors until they stood before two great door intricately carved and the strange beasts adorning the heavy stone peered down at them. At a sign from the man before her the twins parted and she could see from within soft billowing streams of pearly white. "You shall go in and read to the King. It is the royal chronicles."

"I am to read to the King?" she questioned, looking down upon herself. "Like this?" What had Hegai done onto her? But she was bound to follow his word; the King expected to have the chronicles read to him. And thus she found the pit dug too deep for her to climb back out and entered the chamber of the King.

She entered, the soles of her shoes meeting the ground with a loud sound. Hadassa winced at that, looking about herself. She could see the man hanging curtains come together to make a great tent of sorts in the middle of chamber. Behind one of the many thin walls she could see a figure. Instinctively she knew to draw herself from sight and make her way to an empty stool. Picking up the scrolls she found at the foot of the seat, she opened the first. She began reading, hearing her own voice soft and faint in her own ears. The many complaints to be found within must have been a heavy burden to bear.

Hands worked upon something man-shaped. Hadassa distinguished a head as she lifted her eyes from the report regarding the King's granaries. Once more her gaze dropped to the scroll and she spoke of an awarded military man's death before she had time to pause for breath. Such was the man's demise that she could not help but giggle and then the account turned to a shepherd and his troubles. Unbidden, the story of Jacob came to mind.

And since the King was not listening, she might as well speak of a subject dear to her heart. "And this Jacob was too a shepherd, on a long journey from his home to that of his mother's brother. And lo, after walking long in the desert without succour in sight he finally came upon a well. And by this well stood a woman, veiled from the harsh glint of the sun, and she drew water from the well, for the sheep that were about her. And Jacob came upon her and her companions with a shout of joy and found her to be Rachel, the daughter of his mother's brother, Laban. He then helped water her flock of sheep, for she was a shepherdess. And once he had tended to the flock of his mother's brother, he turned to Rachel and kissed her, telling her he was the son of Rebekah, come to his uncle's home. And Jacob stayed in his uncle's home the month and then his uncle asked him _Shall you serve with me for naught; come tell me what will be your wages? _ And in turn Jacob said _I will serve with thee seven years for your daughter Rachel _ and he worked in his uncle's home for the seven years that seemed only a few days for him, so great was his love for Rachel. He then went to his uncle and unto him spoke _Give me my wife, for my time is complete, so that I may go in to her. _And Laban gathered all his kin and gave a great feast, but in the darkness of the night, 'twas Leah, his oldest daughter, he brought in to Jacob. And Jacob, blind to the matter, did lie with Leah and when came morning lo, 'twas Leah in his bed and not Rachel. And he said to Laban _What is this that thou hast done unto me? Did I not serve with thee for Rachel? Why then hast thou beguiled me?_"

"Why then hast thou beguiled me?" her words were repeated back to her from just behind. Hadassa jumped in her seat. "And here I thought to be lulled to sleep by an endless stream of dry reports." The veil between them lifted and he walked by her, moving to one of the alabaster columns, permitting her to drink in the sight of him. Heat suffused her cheeks; he bore himself with elegant ease even as he leaned against the pillar, eyes upon the stars above them. "Well, is Jacob able to have his bride?" Mute with wonder, Hadassa could not quite lower her gaze from him; he was so much more than she remembered. "Is he able to have her?" She thought there was something wistful in his words, but the moment was much too short for her to identify it and she might lose the chance to answer him.

It took time to gather her thoughts. Enough time that his gaze slid from the stars to her own face. And her eyes did drop. But her lips parted. "Only after serving seven more years for her." Chest tight with emotion, Hadassa attempted to calm herself. Was that what Jacob had felt when gazing upon his Rachel? The unrelenting joy, the untrammelled awe for the perfect grace of God? But surely, the one who stood before her was unmatched among men. Gaze softening upon him, she could not even answer when he asked after her name without hesitating overlong.

"Esther," she said breathlessly, "of Susa." She felt his regard, felt the sharpening attention. Again she dared a peek at him and was startled to see watching her intently.

"Of Susa? That cannot be." She flinched. "Nothing good ever comes out of Susa." Relief came upon her. "Look at me." She knew he said it in jest, but her fright was much too recent for her to do aught but stare at him. And yet he held one hand out to her. "You must be tired, Esther of Susa. Go, for I may require your services again soon and would fain have you well-rested."

And thus her interview with the King was at an end. Hadassa longed to turn back, to look at him once more, and so she did; but he was returned to his work, hands and gaze concerned with only the shaped clay upon his table.

Hegai led her back to her chamber and she slid into bed. The King has after all said he might have need of her once more. She clung to that as she the sweet release of slumber. And God granted her an easy sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

_To Guest: Thank you. Hope you enjoy this chapter as well._

* * *

The clay was soft beneath his hands, bending easily to his will. Yet 'twas his will that remained undecided as to which course of action to pursue. The goddess' head was made and unmade between his fingers over and over again. Esther, she had said; she was called Esther. What a curious woman; prattling nonsense to him as though he were not the king, as though he couldn't end her with the barest of efforts. And to come to him with a love story of all things. Whip-fast the sting of annoyance came down upon him. That he should still recall her after the passing of so many days rankled.

Dropping the head he'd been holding, he stood straight, peering into the unfathomable darkness of the night. Somewhere far above the stars danced. Their light seemed to him dimmer than it had been before. When Vashti had stood by him and together they'd scrutinised the vast expanse of wonders above them time had seemed too short. "And now that I have time, it's flow grows wearying." He needed something to take his mind off of Vashti and her words, off of the pressure the clamour for war engendered. He thought of his father, recalling the lively royal quarters of the man's time.

He would not call for any concubine. Xerxes drew cloth upon his shoulders and paced onto the deserted balcony from where he might see the vastness of his realm. He observed the city below, menacing shapes in the combined light of a pallid moon and whispering torches. Could he hope to find another companion as suitable as his Queen had been? True, Vashti did not know when to bend; yet she had been praised for that very trait a lifetime ago, and he too had thought it charming before it had turned to bite him. Couldn't she have swallowed her pride for once? Was not a wife to be at her husband's side and stand as a helpmate to him?

A sigh left his lips. She was to never appear before him again and lo, he could not help but long for her presence. The gods were toying with him, he perceived. For better or worse, he had to pick another to be his queen and soon; the time drew near for war. Turning from the sight of his kingdom, Xerxes peered into his great chamber; too empty and cold.

Entering, he called for Hegai. The man, never too far away, was at his side within moment. Xerxes deliberated for but a moment if he should speak the words his heart urged upon his tongue. "Bring Esther to me." One moment passed between them during which he saw aught like hesitation in his man's eyes and would have urged him to be on his way, had the eunuch not bowed himself and proceeded to carry out the order. He would unravel her and in doing so, he will have crushed all mystery she held and then the woman would trouble him no more. Such were his thoughts as he waited for Hegai to return with Esther in tow.

Tousled and more than a little alarmed, to her credit, Esther of Susa came to him meek as a lamb. Dressed modestly, she appeared to him no lesser in mystery than before and no less alluring, the siren's song of inscrutability calling to him as he beheld her. In the ensuing silence, the woman attracted upon herself the whole of his attention and with it sprang all manner of snakes, slithering about in the darkness surrounding her. "Tell me, Esther of Susa, when you look at me what do you see?" But she was not looking at him; her eyes were upon the ground. "Answer me, woman."

And so she raised her head and gazed at him. Women's eyes had been fashioned strangely; one could look into them and see what was not there. Xerxes could see naught of Vashti's strength in the eyes of this bondswoman, there was none of his erstwhile queen's fire. Yet there was a calm sea of warmth there; as a banked fire that might warm a man in his hour of need and not a blazing inferno that would burn down all in its wake, did her gaze shine. "I see a man, my lord." A raised one eyebrow at that, content to let her continue for the time being. "And I see a king. And I see that power rests in his hands. How am I to speak of what I see?"

"You fear me; that is wise." He approached, reaching for her. His touch was firm. "You have my leave to speak; let there be no fear to stop you and speak truth to me." And her eyes, those dark depths made even darker in the scant light afforded them, pulled him in. "So speak." She nodded and then seemed to fall into deeper still thought.

Her search for words, meticulous and careful, lent credence to the speech which came rushing forth from her lips. "A weary head can find no rest with a heavy heart to counsel and the heart finds no comfort when the thoughts surrounding it are dark. If it please the King, then let my lord hear this which I have said." He, who had dared not give voice to the emptiness within, was thus forced to acknowledge it. Turning from her, he walked a space, hands clasped behind his back.

"Is that all you have to say?" Such was the great length of his chamber that he need not worry about seeing her face again. Her voice would carry through the many veils surrounding them and the heavy weight of darkness still.

"If it please the King, the heart and head need to be comforted now and again, may come together in unity when there is need for it. One must only be open to it." Comfort, he tested the notion against his own discomfort and could not but feel himself sinking even lower in despair. Turning on his heel, he pinned Esther with a stare. She too watched him.

"My heart and head are united in their misery." She flinched. "This pain is crushing. How does one bear such? How did this Jacob of yours trust again after serving in vain and getting naught to show for it?" The world between them had disappeared in that moment; all of his attention was concentrated upon a pair of trembling lips.

"Is the world not full of snakes, my lord?" she asked after a moment. "Build walls as we may and circle our gardens with stone and wood, the serpents always find a way. What matters is not how many snakes have slithered into your garden, but how one chooses to act in such an event." Holding her hands up, palms heavenward, she went on. "None of us is spared pain in this life, but it is in our hands how we go on."

Motioning her over, he once more turned away, making his way upon the large terrace, he pointed her towards the path his last queen had taken. "Look there, see you any trace left of the woman who has betrayed me?" He heard her answer and was perplexed. "What mean you, you see it clearly?"

"I see it not upon the ground, but upon your face." And yet she was not wrong. Vashti had left with her palanquin and an army of servants. And her ghost remained a reminder to her husband even while his eyes recalled the sight of her departure. "It is not wrong to grieve, my lord. Allow the pain to burn itself away. Suck out the poison so that the wound may heal. Wear the pain as armour, my lord, and through it know that you are not shackled, but free."

The air around them was pure then, made so by the understanding he had found, the very understanding which in that moment fought off the pain in his soul, championing the wounded thing deep in his chest. He could, in front of her, admit to the ache bound within him. "Is it so for your Jacob as well then? Does he suffer and suffer again only to rise over and over and walk upon the same path?"

She drew her shawl tighter about her shoulders before she answered. "For years and years, he toiled and then when he had his much-awaited bride, her sire would not let them depart, but for the fact he should lose all the good that had come his way by the hand of his son-by-marriage. He then found reason and reason alike, and made one attempt after another, but Jacob would not relent. And so, Jacob asked for the dowry of his wives, saying that he would happily take all the speckled beasts and be quite happy with that." She paused there in order to gaze at the city unfolding before them. "Rachel's father took them all the speckled beasts of his flock and hid them away so that Jacob may have naught to take. But Jacob would not relent even so and thus stripped branches of their bark and placed such in the sheep's drinking water and about them as they mated and lo, did the sheep breed true and Jacob had his flock to take with him. Laban was put in Jacob's path to test him again and again, my king, not for the pleasure of seeing him fail, but for a desire to strengthen him, aid him in enduring any hardship he may encounter."

He saw the wisdom in her words once more and bowed his head in acknowledgement. "And if you are, my lord, to be tested over and over again; I should fain have you rise above and triumph." That, the uninvited words, decided the matter for him. Xerxes gave her leave then to return to her sleeping chambers and did not turn to watch her leave. He should fain win himself back from the brink of despairing heart-sickness. Having eased the pain some, he could do as he had before and return to the goddess forgotten upon the ground.

A head took shape between his fingers. And in the clay he saw Ishtar. To him she appeared from the skies, falling from the embrace of a star. He worked with the hand of the goddess upon him in blessing and by morning 'twas her image he had standing on the table before him. He would place her by his bed, he decided, so that she may guide him in his choice. "Let me find a worthy queen," he prayed the goddess, "and yours shall be the glory." He would await then for her signs and do all in his power to set his home to rights, so he may ride to war and glory with an easy heart.

The sun broke through at long last, spilling forth its light into the chamber, chasing away the last remnants of the dark and falling upon the head of the goddess, her face bathed in its warm glow. Satisfied for the time being, Xerxes left his idol and made his way without. Hegai, faithful servant, awaited his arrival, having by some manner read his mind once more. And thus Xerces spoke unto him.

"Let it the be done as I will," he began, "give to Esther of Susa her own chamber and have servants brought for her, so they may ease her and amuse her when she needs it. And let it also be that she has first picking of whatever gifts are given amongst the women of the house."

Hegai bowed in compliance, though he did not suffer to stay silent. "You honour her greatly, my king. I fear lest she should think too little of the kindness you do her."

"That you do not," contradicted the King laughingly. "You have seen her worth and thus brought her before me. Think you I am not wise to your ways, Hegai. What should that say of me, that I would not know my trusted servants after a lifetime their company?"

And thus did the King honour the good counsel he had found upon the lips of an expected source of comfort.

* * *

"But I am perfectly pleased with my chambers," Hadassa insisted even as one of the women aided her in securing a handful of garments. All of them were gifts and such was the power of the gesture that she had been struck dumb for all too brief a time. And then the reality of the situation had bore its weight down upon her. The King treated her well, but how could she delude herself that she had reached his heart when he had not called her to him and would neither seek her out. What good soft robes and glittering jewels when her heart was empty?

And yet if that were all she could have of him, she must be nevertheless pleased. Such were her thoughts that she did not notice the man entering her chambers as her women made haste to carry out her belongings. It was the strength of his stare that woke her to his presence. Whirling around she came face to face with a beloved mien, one she had missed, and without thought she called out, "Jesse," reaching out, her hands took hold of his, "can it be you, indeed?"

"It is I," he confirmed as though she could not see it well herself and shushed her when she might speak again, "but they call he Hatach now, as must you." There was a smile upon his lips. "At least until I have removed the both of us from this place."

"Remove us?" But she did not wish to go; certainly not when she had some hope yet. The King had yet to choose for himself a worthy queen and so she must remain. "Surely that is not possible." Her friend's face seemed to darken at her words and she pushed away from him. "If we are here it must be because God wills it."

Something like pain reflected in her dear companion's face as he leaned in, hissing, "They cut me." The desperation she saw there hurt her more than the revelation ever could have. It was instinct that made her flinch, and horror as well. But Jesse must have read it as disgust for a whimper left him before he jumped away from her and turned. "Is this the chest you wish me to carry?" he asked, voice a tad too loud in the oppressive silence. Without waiting for any manner of answer, he picked the greatest of her trunks and hoisted it up in his arms.

Yet too sick with the grief of his revelation, Hadassa could but muffle her sobs, fearing he might turn and see her. She had thought him safe on the way to Jerusalem, with the rest of the caravan. And yet she found him lessened and serving in uncaring halls. He should not know it of her though, that she pitied him, that his plight brought her tears. Jesse was ever disposed to find fault with that, even if her suffering was genuine and felt with a heart no less his in spite of the situation.

And yet never, not once, had she truly considered in truth the reality of binding herself to him. Might be as a blind, unknowing girl, he should have been more than enough. But God had put her in the path of another and such a man as the one would not be forgotten, nor dismissed; what had been seen could not be unseen, no matter how much she wished it and prayed for it. Nay; she had opened her heart and if it should bleed from the thorn of love, was there a sweeter pain, a more worthy cause?

Jesse would understand in time, she knew. He was not hard-hearted, just mulish after a fashion. And she was too; if their wills should clash, she was certain she would make him see her point in the end. She would do it for the both of them, so he might not suffer for what could have never been. She owed it to him as his friend and as a woman owed it to a man she cherished. Struggling with the remnants of her tears, she wiped the moisture from her eyes. And yet she was not quick enough,

Rubati came upon her and saw the tears. "What ails you, child?" she questioned, rushing over so she might touch a hand to her forehead. "Is it the heat? I shall have Kalumtum bring you aught to cool you and then you shall lie down. " Deceit was not in Hadassa's nature, thus she denied having any ailment, for she well knew the pain she felt could not be soothed with a draught. Only her Lord might take it from her and for that she needed prayer, another thing beyond her in these halls. That she could not even beg of God, her Lord, to offer succour to herself and to Jesse and to the King as well did naught to aid her.

"I am overwhelmed," she managed in spite of her throat which would clamp down upon itself even as she struggled to free herself of the yoke of emotion. "I pray you, but give me a moment and let me see to the last of my belongings." She could see upon the older woman's face that her words were not seen with good eyes. "I pray you; 'tis most difficult to come to terms with such changes."

Once alone in the chamber, Hadassa could see to driving away the most pressing of her discontent. She might not be able to fall upon her knees and beg for mercy from her Lord, but she could give silent worship and she could walk the path of the righteous and mayhap that should suffice for He that could see it all and knew even better than she did whence she came and where she was headed. Let it then be as God would have it. "I am in Your hands," she whispered, "and may I never fall out of them."


	3. Chapter 3

_To Guest: I think the idea would be that he didn't love Vashti - but considering the Xerxes we see in the movie even if he did not love her, it would not be in his nature to dismiss her so handily. For myself and the sake of drama (obviously), I choose to interpret it as he doesn't forget her right away and does not fall in love with Hadassa with just the snap of a finger. It's all the better if she has to work for it - from a narrrative perspective, naturally. The movie is understandably limited in time, whereas in writing we can explore at our heart's content. _

_In any event, I hope you will enjoy this chapter _

* * *

Her sleep had been troubled. Hadassa sat in the grass, the morning sun tangling in her hair along with the hot breeze. She eyed one of the many bushes heavy with flowers; their fragrance was upon the air and she could not help but be well pleased. 'Twas not the ghouls of childhood that had followed her long into the night, nor was it present wear which rid her of rest, but the fear of the future. She took a sip of the honeyed wine in her cup, the sweetness of it sliding down her throat. "Rubati," she called after the woman sitting in the shade with a basket at her side and a needle in her hand. "Stay your hand and come to me now; bring the garment with you."

The tirewoman did as she was told, hastening her steps so she might come to Hadassa. Holding forth the cloth, she showed her work off. "How well this is made," Hadassa complimented. "But I see that you are grown tired from your toil and surely your eyes would gladly take in the beauty of this garden for a time; let then your task be given to me and rest a time."

"That I could not," Rubati answered, her cheeks reddening. But Hadassa would not be dissuaded and she took from the woman her work even so, brushing her words away. And so Rubati was to do her bidding in the end.

"If you will not enjoy the gardens, you may sit by me still and tell me of your life here. I know so little." She spread out the garment over her knees, tracing the pattern of the sun adorning its back. Vivid reds and yellows and blues came together upon the expanse, entertaining the eye with their play. There were golden beads yet to be sewn into the rays of the sun and so she would do that for a time, lest she be idle too long and her thoughts prey upon her mercilessly. Picking up the needle and thread, she brought one of the beads upon its perch and began puzzling over her charge laid into her lap.

"There is not much to know, lady," the servant woman answered after a moment presumably spent in observing her. "I was born within these walls in the servants' quarter and a lifetime later here I am still." Hadassa paused in her work so she might look at Rubati.

"There must be something to be said. Have you not Kalumtum holding onto your skirts at all times?" The daughter was much like the mother in some ways and much different in others. Hadassa smiled upon the woman, not for the first time taking note of the laugh lines around the elder's mouth and the crow's feet lining her face alike. The shape of it was still pretty, though her visage had been sculpted by the agile fingers of time and she looked past her bloom, though not graceless in her aging. "I believe there is a worthy story there."

"It is but the story of a woman and a man; both of little import and humble. But if my lady should enjoy to hear it for her amusement, I shall speak of it. I was born in the second year of the old king's reign to the maidservant of his wife Phaidyme and Khamourabi whom the old king held in some regard, allowing him to pick from the women of the palace a maiden after his own heart."

"And how came you to serve in the King's palace once more then?" Hadassa's eyes were upon the sun made of golden string and she sewed its rays with great care that they should all be straight and not stray.

"My sire did not take my mother from her service. He was merely awarded her for a time so that he may amuse himself with her and sired me upon her and after my brother Muranu who now serves in the King's stables. 'Twas only after my brother was born that my father paid the brideprice and she was then taken into his home."

"But then what of you, his children?" Had Hadassa lesser a heart, she would have spoken the words with calm. As it was, they came about harsh and full of incredulity. It seemed to her needlessly cruel, for what could two babes do without their mother and father?

"She still served as companion to the gracious Zehirah and we were placed into her house as well that we may grow in service to a kind mistress and she has been good to us." Leaning gently in, the woman imparted as though it were some manner of secret. "Phaidyme had no children of her own and wished dearly for little feet to run about her chambers nonetheless. 'Twas by such means that the family was not broken as it might have been otherwise. The old king did not love Phaidyme as he did others, but she was still good counsel to his most favoured wife, Atossa, and it was she who aided her in begetting our current lord."

A man surrounded by a field of beautiful flowers might, of course, have his pick of them, Hadassa supposed, considering that surely a wise husband might find a role for each flower in his garden. She made a thoughtful sound, encouraging Rubati to go on, which the woman did. "And I grew in my mistress' house in the company of my brother and the children of other servants. In the end, my sire saw opportune to wed me off to Simyreus, solider in the king's army. My husband died on the field of battle before he ever saw our daughter. And I, not wishing to wed again, begged my mistress to allow me to go on as I was."

She must have loved her husband a fair lot that she should refuse all others. Deciding against pressing the wound lest if bleed sorrow, Hadassa merely thanked the woman for her tale. It had given her much to think upon and yet more to consider regarding her own position. Indeed, if she was to take into her heart a man such as the King would she then not expose herself to the mischief of such a position? Would she then not suffer all the more when her love was to be placed on the same pedestal as any other's. Pursing her lips in discontentment she directed her thoughts towards the Lord, asking for wisdom that she might find it in her heart to not put pride before His plan, whatever it might be.

She worked upon the garment Rubati had fashioned until it the sun had reached its zenith and then the heat became too much even for her to endure, thus she retreated away from the glare of the sun and hid in her chambers. Somehow she fell asleep not long into the noon and was woken by Kalumtum. The woman gave her to understand she had been asked after.

"Whatever can you mean?" Hadassa hastened to learn, fearful lest her conspiracy be uncovered. "Who would ask after me at the gates?" If it should come out she had entered the palace with a false name, it would be her head to fall.

"A man of some years; he called you by name, lady, and said he should like to know of how you get on. Mordecai, he said he was, scribe. And then he said he was your kin and that you should not take it amiss if aught was given to him of your dealings. I thought it best to ask of you nevertheless. Shall I have the guards throw him away and bar the doors against him."

But Hadassa had heard naught after the mention of the dear man's name and jumped from the bed, gripping Kalumtum by the forearms in her haste. "That is my kin. Oh, that he should come and ask after me." It was not wise, and yet her heart was overwhelmed with joy. "Go now, Kalumtum and bring to me the eunuch they call Hatach. Tell him that I have a task for him." And so her maidservant went as she bade and Hadassa sat upon the bed, hands held to her chest, just over her heart.

Jesse entered her chamber a time later, his face pinched and contorted as though he were in pain. But she stood to her feet and in spite of her own ache, she reached out for him after she had dismissed Kalumtum. Leaning in she began without preamble, "My uncle waits at the gates. I pray you go to him and make it known that I am well." Seeing that he wished to speak, she shushed him with a shake of the head. "There is no other I may trust with this." They broke apart as Rubati entered. Seeing them close together the woman raised herself to full height and asked whether she could be of use to her mistress. "Certainly," Easther answered, perceiving that she ought not to tarry, "you may see to it that this man is rewarded for doing my bidding. See you, Hatach, this chest which rests against the wall there," she pointed to it, "I would have it brought to Hannah in the women's quarters."

She could not tell if Rubati looked upon them with kinder eyes than before but was relieved when the woman finally took her leave and her daughter returned instead, carrying a tray laden with foodstuff. She placed the tray before Esther and ask what it was that she would like to taste of first. Her eyes fell upon a pomegranate and thus she picked it from all there was before her and Kalumtum broke it for her and began freeing the seeds inside.

Hadassa numbered seeds in her palm and could not help but think of the Greek tale of Hades and his maiden bride Persephone. Seven were the seeds in the palm of her hand when she looked. Laughing at herself for indulging in such folly, she ate the seeds before moving to the roasted chicken awaiting her. She ate of it with relish, wondering how it should taste so wonderfully reach.

"This food is so very good, Kalumtum; one may even say 'tis better than any I have tasted before. How came you by such morsels?" Her servant answered then that by order of Hegai, Esther was to have first picking of any and all things which might ease and comfort her and thus it was that the kitchens had given Kalumtum the choice and she had taken what she thought might please her best.

Eyes wide at the revelation, Hadassa felt her cheeks heat. She had been given elegant chambers and wonderful clothing and now the best of all there was to give so she might have her needs met. She knew, even if it went unvoiced, that it was not Hegai who had made the decision. But he had carried it out and was his wont and she could but perceive herself most fortunate. A smile came unbidden to her face and she continued to eat of her meal, inviting Kalumtum to sit with her and eat as well. "No sense in letting all of this go to waste."

Rubati returned after a time and sat down with them, saying that she had done her mistress' bidding and the eunuch had been given his due. Hadassa asked after Hannah's opinion on the gift given her and she was told that it had been graciously accepted. Pleased with that much, she asked no more. The meal went on until all of them could eat no more and the noon had perished beneath the afternoon sun, leaving behind lethargy and somnolence. But Hadassa could sleep no more and left her women to their rest, saying she would walk the gardens and she was left to her own devices.

It was there that Jesse came to her. Hadassa had been sitting upon one of the carved benches, admiring the beautiful work when she saw the hems of clean robes coming her way. "My lady Esther, I bring word to you," he said, his face a mask she could not peer behind. With a heavy sigh, Hadassa rose from her seat and motioned him over.

"Speak you then, Hatach," she invited, using his new name. "What word have you brought me?" She paced a short distance away, feeling the grass bend and give way beneath her feet. She could not bear to look at him then, not when he regarded her as a stranger would. And so he spoke. Mordecai sent word that she should keep her eyes and ears open and not allow her current situation to give her license to forget herself. He then congratulated her for the speedy ascension and thereafter cautioned her to remain in good graces and that he should strive to likewise keep abreast of the news coming from the palace.

Made glad by such, Hadassa wished she might share the moment with her old friend and turned to him, remembering only too late that he would not do likewise. But it being much too late, their eyes met and held and she felt the scalding heat of his anger, her lips falling into a frown under the weight of his scrutiny. "I sent you to him with the hopes you might seek counsel; why have you returned to me so?"

"Why have I returned at all, you mean?" The vitriol she heard caused her to draw away and wince. "You may not wish to see it and mayhap would not fain acknowledge it, but it is not me who has changed but you." His words were low and his voice harsh. Hadassa listened, knowing that she had indeed encouraged him. "You are the one who has entered a life of comfort and plenty and now you no longer wish to exchange it. But let me tell you this, Hadassa, creature comforts will be poor substitute for an honest, true heart." It was one thing to hear him admonish her; she had some part of fault in this and she was wise enough to know as much, but he knew not the King, he could not speak of him so.

"You are well justified in your anger at me, old friend, but I beg of you, do not allow this ire to cloud your judgement. Had God, our Lord, ordained it, nothing would have kept us apart. Where there is His will, there is a way. Search your heart, you know it to be true." He neither confirmed nor denied her then but stood gazing at her. "I've no wish to cause you pain, but such are matters and such is the truth of it. I would not lose you for what could have never been."

He looked away from her and she allowed him the ensuing silence. She'd spoken the words she wished to speak and could do no more than that. It was his choice regarding how they were to go on. After all, 'twas not her heart that had been stabbed with the pain of disappointment as pertained to them. Jesse took some time to return his eyes to her. And then he spoke. "I cannot yet find the strength to let the pain go. If you care for me as you claim, the I beg you, call me no more before you, for I cannot stand it."

She wanted to protest. She wanted to explain that after all he could not hold her heart accountable for aught that was not and never had been within her power. But Hadassa relinquished the words to silence.

"You may come to me when you wish it, Jesse. I have not stopped being your friend," she gave him before dismissing the man. He left without another glance her way and she found herself falling back down upon the bench, frustration biting her fiercely. Why had she no kind word to soothe her and no hands to come down upon her shoulder in comfort?

Her Lord had surely not abandoned her, came the thought, and he would not do so. Jesse yet lived and so did she. Until they drew their last breath there was still hope. Though it might seem to her impossible, she had to trust a way would reveal itself and if it did not, then His plan was certainly for the best. Planting her face in her hands, Hadassa allowed herself to be awash in grief that she may find relief the better.

There was naught more she could do on that matter and thus she stood from her seat, forcing herself to walk away from the bench, the grass and the sun and make her way within the chambers. Rubati had woken and sat into one of the corners, head bowed in prayer. Hadassa did not disturb her, but chose to gently wake the daughter as well and her she called away, for she wished to go to the bathing house and soak away her misery.

She found in the bathing house a few of her erstwhile companions and they took great pleasure in pulling her in their midst. "Have you heard?" whispered one of them rather loudly, "It has been ordered that Misgath make ready for her night with the King. Even now she is made ready and she is to be taken to him on the morrow. And that day shall be her day."

"I am more curious to see what she shall take of the King's gold. Her hands will surely become rakes so as to better grasp the gold and stones." Laughter rose at those words. Hadassa too smiled, so she may not seem completely out of place, but could not help her disappointment. She'd been hoping to be the first in Xerxes' eyes. Misgath had birth and claim to riches on her side. Hadassa had only her heart to give.

"This should prove amusing; let us see if the king can tolerate her for an entire day and night." That from Omarosa whose smile took on a sharp edge.


	4. Chapter 4

_A/N: Now, much as I enjoyed the movie, I don't think I can rightly ignore the customs of the time and the mores pertaining to that era - I know we tend to sprinkle sugar and spice and everything nice on history to make it more palatable, and while I will certainly be doing some of that, do expect to find some likewise anachronistic viewpoints. If your sensibilities as a modern person are violated by such...this would be a good point to throw your hands up in the air and give up on me :P ._

_Thank you for your attention._

* * *

The wine cup was heavy in his hand. Or mayhap it was his own troubles that weight so heavily upon him. Xerxes looked upon the dark surface, a hum in the back of his throat in response to the words of Memucan. The old general was not, however, nearly done. "My King, surely you can yet find pleasure in a pleasant form and amusing conversation."

He had not lost his ability to appreciate beauty, that much was true. And there was much of it to be found in the harem of the king. "Who are they sending this day?" he questioned after a moment, looking to Hegai for an answer.

"Misgath of Persepolis." A moment's disappointment assailed him. Xerxes took a deep swing of his cup. "She is lovely." The assurance did not raise his spirits any; there were something to be said of loveliness. Xerxes looked to his trusted general to see what it was the words awoke in the man.

For his part, Memucan smiled softly, a small shake of the head following on its heels. "All the maidens are lovely." That much could not be denied. "However will you choose, my King, if beauty is the criterion?" And yet his tone was more light than speculative, indicating clearly enough that the consideration was more in jest than anything.

"I will find a way," he replied in a like manner. The wine was sweet upon his tongue when tasted it once more. It was not Esther they were bringing to him and he did not suppose there was any one way to know when she would be brought indeed. But Misgath of Persepolis deserved her chance and he could not rob her of it, much as he might wish it.

Misgath came to the gardens, draped in gold and purple cloth. Xerxes did not reveal himself immediately. He took a few moments to observe the young woman as she looked about, her pursed red mouth never relaxing as she observed her surroundings. She was tall, certainly taller than Vashti had been, and well-formed. Even beneath the layers of golden chains her shape was clear. Her kohl-rimmed eyes were wide and fringed by long lashes, her nose straight, her chin sharp; her bearing was altogether proud.

The young boy that had accompanied her within had retreated a few feet away. The woman rounded upon him, questioning the child. Her tone was pleasant enough, he supposed, that he could not find fault with it. Still, the child would not be able to satisfy her curiosity and he might as well spare both himself and her from wasted time.

Thus Xerxes left the comfort of the shadows and stepped without, his approach noted by the lady and her companion alike. The child bowed, the lady curtsied, the lowering bringing her enchantments to better attention. Unable to keep his amusement at bay, Xerxes smiled. Such base attractions might well work upon some men. But his companion must have mistook the expression for as she stared up at him from beneath lowered lashes, her own mouth relaxed, unfurling into a smile. It made her look different, lending her a softness that had not been there a moment past.

"Rise," he spoke, taking a step past her. She did not track his movement with her body, but straightened to full height. She waited, her smile firmly affixed to her lips. "A very pretty picture." It was then that she looked at him, triumphant. There was so much gold upon her that she should never have a moment's unrest about her future without the harem, nor her children. He wondered if he might lift her on his own and was tempted to put his strength to test.

"My King," she said, the words breathless. He imagined the weight was claiming its toll. Still, she made no complaint at being kept in the sun, the golden glint of her adornments showing to best advantage, so much so that it quite took away attention from her own gifts. It would be cruel to test her endurance, and so he called her away from the spot and led her to a shaded spot with a low bench.

"Tell me," he began, seeking to capture her gaze. She allowed him the boon but he read little enough there, "how do you find your stay so far?"

"Very much so; I have never seen anything quite like this." She nodded to the gardens. Xerxes looked around. It was naught to the inner gardens of his own chambers, but it was tolerably shaded and allowed for some intimacy.

"It could do with some greater care." He knew the words put her quite in a bind as soon as she nodded. Were he so inclined, he might ask whether her first confessed impression was the truth or her agreement with his sentiment. He had little doubt as to which would win out. "Should you enjoy a ride, my lady?"

"If my King wishes it." Indeed, all was as he wished. Xerxes eyed her carefully. It would likely be an uncomfortable ride for her. All the same, she ought to have been truthful with him. With that in mind, he called for the horses readied and walked with his companion to the courtyard from whence they might ride off. There was a stretch of land, not far from the city, where one could spend some time in pursuit of more relaxing activities than being pressed upon to start a war.

His favoured horse, an elegant creature, long-legged and spirited, had been saddled, its gleaming mane combed to perfection, coat brushed until it shone. Xerxes mounted with ease as his servants attempted to bring Lady Misgath into a like position that they might ride together. But try as they might, all they managed was to struggle beneath the weight of all the gold the woman had heaped upon herself. She managed to stay a few moments perched upon her saddle before she slid right off and into awaiting arms.

Xerxes did not suppose he might ride with her and thus gave up the thought, allowing the woman's retreat while her pride yet endured.

* * *

His musings upon the form of Ishtar were curbed by the sounds of shuffling. Gods, Xerxes reflected, were amusing themselves with the games of men, as men amused themselves with the play of children. He smiled at the benign notion and turned to look upon one of the cupbearers, a boy still tidying the table. He'd eaten well, his appetite for food aided by the passing of the day and the many activities demanding his attention. There were yet more matters which he had to attend and thus he saw his way to the desk placed near the balcony. He sat, facing the descending sun.

Another day had passed, another night was to come. On the morrow he should have to see yet another candidate, and then another and yet once more another. There were so many of them. And like a sour man surrounded by fine foods but much too spoiled to be pleased with anything, Xerxes found that his fascination with the unfathomable Esther still needled him and would not leave him be. It was her he wished to see sitting in his gardens, drinking from his wine and smiling at him with equanimity, or with amusement or even with joyous fire.

Caught by a memory, he stood from his seat and walked the length of the chamber until he stood without, eyes upon the sprawling city. He had amused himself with the thought of Ishtar guiding matters to his advantage; many of his peoples yet trusted in the gods of yore and would swear by their kindness. It was a jest made much more amusing by the many temples crowded together and forever filled with believers and supplicants. But it was only Ahura Mazda that might, in his glory, see him upon the proper path, and if he found impatient, then he had only himself to blame.

He was yet a man, however, and he had his own timing and this timing, however out of sync with the timing of the Wise Lord, he had to hold by, for it was the only one he knew and the only one which might aid him in making sense of what was around him. It could be no lie for the God of supreme good would not conceive a lie to guide the believers; therefore all he had to do was to trust. And that Xerxes could well do.

His attention returned to the scrolls left for his perusal. His princes were agitating for war, crying out to spill Greek blood. They begged him to reach a decision, to show the world the might of his empire and avenge his sire. Would that he might; would that his sire's campaigns had not burned through the coffers and the men and the lands. And yet truth would not bend to his will, not in such a matter. He could, to be sure, give in to their demands and with a hastily drawn together force march upon the Greeks. It would likely end in disaster.

In Babylon unrest brewed, the populous ever driven to revolt. He had to spare enough men that they might uphold order and put those pesky Babylonians in their place once and for all. Annoyed by the less than ideal situation his scribes committed to the annals, he sighed heavily. Mardonius might see to the matter, if only he would raise the man's daughter some in status. She had been brought to him on the order of his own sire. Darius had cherished Mardonius as one of his closest allies and it had seemed only natural to give the man's daughter to his favoured son. At that time, before even Vashti had been known to him, Xerxes had seen little to protest to. But tethering of political nature was tenuous at best; they had drifted naturally apart after a time and she had been replaced in time. If he were to please his kin, he would put other alliances in jeopardy. There was Admatha, to be sure, whose cunning guile would see the matter satisfactorily solved until the snake found better prey and then the man would turn, as many men did. One of his brother, might be, could be trusted to carry out the task, for there were many of them and among those enough who clamoured for a chance to ascend through the ranks.

Leaning forth upon his elbows, he closed his eyes against the caress of the wind. He needed a man he could trust, a man who would not fail him and might see the matter to proper end without becoming grasping and greedy. Such a paragon, he feared, would not be easily found even if he scoured all his lands twice over.

He had need of another soul to converse with, someone to unburden himself to. Someone whom he might simply speak to and not expect too harsh a judgement. His mind supplied an answer even as his heart fiercely tugged him in the same direction. Of course it should all return to the meek maiden of Susa whose rule he could not dispel.

He called upon Hegai with his command. If the eunuch had any thought upon the matter, he remained nevertheless properly impassive and merely allowed that he'd understood. "The Library should do," Xerxes supplied. It was less an intimate setting than his own chambers and would serve to curb his own impulses and wishes for the time being, until he was certain of his own want and his own choice. And if it turned out that he need not think upon the matter any further, he supposed he could easily enough do as he would.

With that he proceeded to the Library wherein many a scroll rested and bound tomes abounded. She would read to him, he decided, for her voice was soothing, though more suited to tales than to chronicles, as he well recalled. A small smile sprang to life upon his lips as he seated himself in a great chair, content to enjoy the silence he awaited to be broken.

Presented with the most intriguing problem of Esther of Susa revealed in the quiet glory of a muted hymn, Xerxes could do little but look her over upon the woman's arrival. Dressed yet in a fashion most modest, she contrasted with the sumptuous surroundings, coming across as a sparrow among so many birds of paradise. Her plumage. Humble but no less lovely for having been made in proper image, she displayed to full advantage with a curious smile. There was no evidence of jewellery and even less of kohl. Her hair shone darkly with the warm light of the candles and her eyes were most alert, but otherwise his lady fair could not be said to grab at one's attention. But rather like the teasing autumn breeze, tugging lightly upon the edges of one's consciousness, she came.

The obvious pleasure, so unguarded, yet so very innocent could not but burrow its way into his heart. "I see the day has left you undaunted," he noted softly, cocking his head to the side as she came to end her bow. It was well-performed, he did not doubt she had taken the time to practise it time and again under the careful tutelage of the many overseeing such matters. Her hands came to rest before her, holding one onto the other. She met his eyes for but a moment before glancing shyly away, equal part coyness and allure, he did not doubt. He liked a challenge.

"I should say rather that the evening has brought with it unexpected energy," she commented in a tone much like his own, furtively glancing his way. He, having no such qualms as her, held her gaze with his own, by sheer force of will pulling her in. He saw her take a step forth before she swayed and fell back to her earlier position. She stood still and would likely remain standing if he did not invite her to sit. And so he did. She seemed taken aback for a brief moment.

"Tell me, Esther of Susa, what do you do day by day?" He wondered whether she would fill the ensuing silence or rather draw back and say only carefully crafted words as the lovely Misgath and other candidates had done. "Whatever occupies your time?"

"One should blush to bring such matters before a king of all people, but I do as all women do, I imagine. I sew, I work at the loom and I wonder."Puzzled by the last of it, he requested clarifications. "Well, there is so much to wonder about, is there not, my King; for instance, what does the King do with his time? What matters burden him so that he should spend even as long as he does pondering these matters?" Recognising her angle, he gave in with good grace and spoke of some of the matters holding his attention, careful to avoid the anything of true substance. He could not give too much away, after all.

"War is much easier," he confided at long last, "where there is chaos one can easily bring order. But where there is order already, how does one make improvement?" She leaned forth, resting her chin upon her palm, lips pursing ever so slightly. The expression gave him pause. "Speak without fear."

"Is war a desirable thing then?" He'd not expected that question, but rather an agreement or even an opinion. He liked her all the more for it; a curious mind was to be treasured. If it so happened that it could be found in a woman one considered for a wife, all the better.

"What do you believe?" he put the challenge to her. Esther drew back, something in her expression changing before she drew the curtain of placidity in its place. An interesting reaction, to be certain.

"I lost my father to war; I cannot claim to have a fondness for it. I fear that where men may bring order, others can but suffer within the grip of chaos." And yet she had not protested with any feeling. What an odd creature she was. "I suppose, it matters a rather lot where one stands at the end of it."

"At times it is the only viable alternative." A tenderness bloomed upon her face then, the gleam in her eyes soft. It was a gesture of such patient understanding, of such unexpectedness, that he found himself experiencing a moment of relief. Vashti had been so adamant in her protest of war, never giving an inch, that he had feared her hardened to all and any arguments one might make. It turned out he had been correct.

Her hands moved in her lap, fingers linking together. "I cannot fathom how that must feel; to be forced into such a corner. And yet, I can see the nobility of the sacrifice as well." Her fingers separated and one hand rose to rest upon her chest, just over her heart. "But all the same, I would wish there was never cause for war."

He chuckled, not for amusement, but rather for the endearing ingenuousness such a wish betrayed. It was not Vashti's polished argument rooted in unshakable conviction that she was correct and those who opposed her did so out of sheer meanness of spirit and spite. "That is a beautiful dream." Although an unfeasible one; as much she seemed to recognise for she blushed to hear the words spoken. "Tell me then, do you not feel as though you might work towards such a goal if you should reach a sufficiently exalted position?"

"An exalted position requires some preparation, my King; I would not dare speak too freely upon matters so strange to me." He saw in that an opportunity he had not seen before. Esther of Susa came to him without strings that might be later tugged upon, without expectations and most importantly without the need to guard against intrusions to do with the wishes of one or another of his courtiers.

He did not think he might ask for more, but a continuation of her openness.


End file.
